


And We Shall All Be Healed

by thesometimeswarrior



Series: Ground Control to Major Tom [2]
Category: Danny Phantom
Genre: Angst, Gen, Guilt, Hurt/Comfort, Post-Canon, Post-Phantom Planet, Post-Series, Reconciliation, Recovery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-15
Updated: 2016-03-15
Packaged: 2018-05-26 21:11:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,972
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6255988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thesometimeswarrior/pseuds/thesometimeswarrior
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“'I will not,' he shouted, 'go back to an infernal hospital!'" </p><p>"'I turned my back on you twice, Vladdy', said Jack. 'I won’t do it again.'”</p><p>After returning from space near-death, the last thing Vlad wants is to be is bedridden in an all-too-familiar hospital setting. And, given how they left things, he certainly does not expect Jack Fenton to come bumbling into his hospital room.</p>
            </blockquote>





	And We Shall All Be Healed

After he returned from space—or was _brought back_ , as he reminded himself in those moments he found he regretted it—he was rushed to the hospital, despite his protests. 

“I will _not_ ,” he shouted, “go back to an infernal hospital! I have…ample resources…at my own lab to take care of myself!”

“Sorry, Vlad,” said Daniel. “But your lab equipment is focused on ghosts. And it’s not your ghost half that needs attention. It’s your human half that has been without sustenance for three years.”

“But—”

“AND, even if you _did_ have the resources—and to be honest I’m not quite sure _what_ the state of your lab is at this point—you would need to turn human to treat your human half. And I suspect your human self wouldn’t have the ability to do that at the moment.”

Infuriatingly, Daniel was right. When they arrived at the hospital and the boy, or Vlad supposed he was a young man now,—who seemed to have everyone’s love and admiration—explained the situation to the doctors, they decreed that, in order to strengthen his human body, his human half would have round-the-clock rest as well as constant intravenous nutrition and hydration for at least several months. And, because, as Plasmius, he had no veins, they forced him into a bed and then to transform, for the first time in years, into Masters. And as soon as he did, he promptly felt himself faint, with the doctors’ shouting distant in his ears.

* * *

When he came to, after an initial moment of panic, he found Daniel Phantom floating on his back over the bed, whistling. “Told ya,” he said.

“Really, Daniel,” and as Vlad said it, he was alarmed to hear how faint his voice was. “I _had_ thought you were older than that now.”

“Oh, come on—give me this one, you fruit loop!”

Vlad merely sighed, nearly gagging as he inhaled. Ah yes, he thought. That lovely, sterile, medicinal smell. What _pleasant_ memories it brought back. Slowly, he surveyed himself. A tube was attached to the veins in each of his wrists, and when he followed them with his eyes, he found each attached to a separate IV bag. A heart-rate monitor was attached to his finger—he could hear its regular beeping, he now noticed—and though he was sure that the last time he was in his human form he wore one of his suits, he currently found himself in a paper gown. 

It all was too familiar. _And his skin was on fire and he couldn't move and his insides were burning, burning, and he was covered in sores..._ He gasped, examining himself again. No sores. No ecto-acne. He breathed. The burning dissipated--it must have just been a phantom pain (how was that for an appropriate term, he thought...) He was fine...well, he was alive.

When he attempted to sit up, he found that his back screamed in protest and his head swam. 

“No.” Daniel transformed into his human self and landed in one swift motion. “Don’t sit up. The doctors said that it’ll probably be a while before you should try to move too much.”

“Well,” spat Vlad, increasingly annoyed as he lowered himself back onto the bed. “Can’t this infernal thing be moved into an upright position?!”

“Oh. Yeah, probably.” After a moment of searching, Daniel found a button and pressed it, so that Vlad now reclined in Fowler’s Position. “Better?”

“How long was I out?”

“Nearly twenty-four hours,” said Daniel. “They said to expect this though. Your body needs a lot a of rest.”

“Hmph.”

“Can I do anything for you?”

“What could you possibly do for me?”

“I dunno. You tell me.”

“I imagine visiting hours are almost over. They will probably ask you to leave soon.”

“They won’t enforce that with me,” said Daniel, matter-of-factly. “But I’ll leave if you want me to.” There was no haughtiness in his voice—it was just a statement. My, this boy _had_ grown.

After a moment, when Vlad said nothing further, Daniel nodded to him, then transformed into Phantom and flew through the wall. 

And Vlad was left alone.

* * *

The doctors had been right; he needed to sleep constantly. In those few hours a day he was awake and lucid, he found—yet again—that he had little human contact. Yes, there were nurses who came to change his IV bags, and to give him sponge baths, and to bring him (and, humiliatingly, to help him use) a requested bedpan. And there were doctors who would come to check his physical progress. But none of these individuals spoke to him—he learned about his condition only through their conversations with each other—and none of them met his eyes. Vlad supposed he could not blame them; he had held the world hostage, after all. And Vlad did not know how much had been revealed about those events—perhaps they knew, too, that the whole Disateroid fiasco had been his fault in the first place. 

Only Daniel, who seemed to come as regularly as he could, addressed him directly. But their conversations were short, awkward. They would easily run out of things to say to each other, and inevitably Vlad would resort to his old habit of insults. Daniel would take this as a cue that Vlad was finished talking for the day, and, though unfazed and unoffended, would leave. 

Vlad, was shocked, therefore, when one day, about a month after his return to Earth, Jack Fenton bumbled through the door of his hospital room.

“Ah, Jack,” he said, by way of greeting. “Come to take revenge on an old friend who betrayed you, who is too weak to possibly defend himself?”

“No,” said Jack, sitting tersely down in a chair. “I’m here because my son thought I should come.”

“Did he, now?”

“And I'm not going to hurt you,” said Jack, without any warmth in his voice. “I told you before, I never meant to hurt you, Vladdy. What happened was an accident.”

“Ha!” spat Vlad. “An accident!”

“It _was_ ,” stated Jack, coldly.

“Oh, I know what happened in the _lab_ was an accident, Jack. You always were a bumbling idiot, even around your experiments, so I shouldn’t have been shocked. I wasn’t, in fact. I was in pain, sure, and I was hideous. And technically speaking, it _was_ your fault. But I wasn’t mad at you, not yet.” 

“Then—”

“But was it an _accident_ too when you and Maddie didn’t so much as _visit_ me for all those years I was in that hospital? Didn’t so much as _call_? Do you even know how long I was _there_?”

“Vladdy…I…”

“Eight years, Jack! I was in one hospital or care facility or another for _eight years_! _Alone_. Similar to this. Although now, my body’s just weak. _Then_ , I was covered in burning ecto-sores, and ghost DNA was slowly seeping into mine, which, let me tell you, is not a particularly pleasant experience!”

“V-Man, I...I don’t know what to say.”

“Then let me ask you another question, fool! How do you think it feels the first time you look at yourself and can’t see your own body? Or the first time you levitate off your bed? Or sink through the floor? Or when you look at yourself in a mirror and not only are you covered in ecto-acne, but your skin is blue and you have _fangs_? I was _terrified_ , Jack! I was terrified and in pain and alone for all those years. While you, my best friends, were off…getting married and having children! I’m just glad that when one of those children went through a similar ordeal, he had friends who supported him through it! Maybe that’s why _he_ saw the value in protecting people!”

Jack looked at his shoes.

“Now, if you’ll excuse me, this conversation seems to have exhausted my energy for the day.” He turned on his side, away from Jack.

“Yeah—yeah of course, Vladdy, you just get some good rest…” And he was still mumbling as Vlad dozed off.

When he next awoke, it was nighttime, and Jack was still in that chair, asleep, snoring and drooling.

 _Odd_ , thought Vlad, before he closed his eyes again and fell back to sleep himself.

* * *

It seemed that every time he woke up after that, no matter what time of day it was, Jack was there. And he would babble on about the Packers and about his Ghost Portal, about some new absurd gadget he was building. Or else he would be snoring in that same chair. And when the nurses would come to give Vlad a sponge bath, or to bring him a bedpan, Jack would step out of the room, but then he would come right back.

Which, thought Vlad, made those little cathartic acts of revenge all the easier, particularly as he regained strength and could access his powers more and more. When the nurse left the room for some disinfectant after the third or fourth time Vlad blasted a filled bedpan onto Jack with a small ectoplasmic beam from his finger, Vlad exclaimed: “I don’t understand! Why are you still here?!”

“I turned my back on you twice, Vladdy," said Jack, wiping himself off the best he could. “I won’t do it again.”

“Hmph.”

* * *

Every day, he felt himself getting stronger, to the point that he thought he might have the strength to transform into his Ghost self. And one day, weeks after Jack had first come to his hospital room, the man was going on about some new ecto-gun he had designed, Vlad had reached his breaking point. 

“Enough!” he shouted, and Jack stopped short. Sitting up in bed, Vlad transformed into Plasmius turning his wrists intangible so that the IV tubes and heart monitor slipped seamlessly off of him as he flew into the air above his bed. “Enough,” he repeated.

“Wow, V-Man! That is so cool!”

“Shut up, you imbecile!” he flexed his arms. “I have spent the past twenty-three years of my life loathing you, and here you are, at my mercy! You know, I could kill you right now, Jack!”

“Would it help?” It wasn’t a pedantic question; suddenly Jack was serious. “Because I’ve been racking my brain for weeks here trying to figure out how to make what I did better. I’m so _sorry_ , Vladdy. About everything. You were my best friend: I should’ve been there for you, and I wasn’t. And I can’t figure out to make it better. But if this is it—well, my kids are grown-up, and I know my town’s protected—so if this is how I can make this better, I can deal with that.” He paused, stood up straight, and then puffed out his chest, as if to make it an easy target. “I’m not armed. I won’t try and stop you.”

Vlad raised his arm, as if to shoot an ectoplasmic beam, then lowered it. “I…” he began, and then found, to his great surprise, tears welling up in his eyes. He wanted—wanted—what did he want? “Perhaps not right now.”

Then, against his will, he felt himself transform back into his human form, which, he realized, hadn’t had nearly as much strength as he thought. “Gah!” he cried out, as his head began to spin, as he felt himself fall…

“ _Vladdy_!” cried Jack. He sprang across the room and just managed to catch the man right before he hit the ground. Gently, Jack set Vlad back onto the bed. “I’ll go find a doctor. And then…I'll leave, if you want me to.”

“No,” said Vlad. “Stay. Please. For now.”

“You got it, V-Man!” Jack smiled at him for a moment, before rushing out the door to fetch help.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed!


End file.
